A Scarred Nation
by MiriamTodd321
Summary: A new country emerges, much to everyone's surprise. Who is he, and why does he seem to know who everyone is, even though they don't recognize him? Israel OC, human names used. Do not read if you dislike Israel. Trigger warning.
1. Prologue

**Hi, this is the author speaking! I came up with the idea to write a story like this a couple of months ago, but never really started since I'm trying to finish another story of mine. But I wanted to get this out while I still had the inspiration, so I hope you enjoy it!**

**~MayBird321**

**(A/N) Human names are being used.**

_M__ay 13th, 1948_

_Spain_

Antonio patted the heads of several children who hung around him as he walked off towards his tomato fields. Whistling a nonsense song, he wasn't watching where he was going and tripped over another child. Brushing himself off, he picked up the crying boy.

"Ssh Diego, fusosososo!" he said cheerfully, smiling at him. The child blinked, looking at the Spaniard through teary green eyes. Antonio chuckled as he brought the boy inside, grabbing the basket of tomatoes by the door. The child had turned up several hundred years ago, only to disappear around the 17th century. Of course he knew why... But he was just happy to see him appear again. While he wasn't sure of exactly who he was, he had an idea. Sephardim, the people who had resided in his country for centuries. But those were simply people, whereas him... The boy hadn't aged a day. He had to be a country, but which one? And another thing, the child looked just like a younger version of him! Not that he minded...but it was strange. The Spanish nation hummed absentmindedly as he walked, before a loud booming noise was heard in the distance. Both males looked up in surprise. The sound didn't return.

"That was strange, eh Diego?" Antonio muttered, before realizing the boy was gone.

"Qué?" he murmured, confused.

_Germany_

Ludwig sighed as he stood over the grave of another fallen soldier. Kissing the tulip in his hand, he placed it on the mound. This had been his routine for the graves he had come across; graves unmarked by tombstones or names. His people. The humans who had been drafted into war by his insane leader. Ludwig had sworn his loyalty to the man, but if he had known it would have turned out like this...The blonde shook his head. It was too late for such thoughts. Already, he was among the most hated nations for being such a large part of the war. He would have to live with it. Walking along the path to a memorial, he spotted a half-dressed boy standing there, tears flowing down his pale cheeks. Ludwig recognized the boy sadly, the swatsika burned into his right shoulder gave him away. The remainder of the people that used to live there, the Ashkenazim.

"Jakob." he said quietly, causing the boy to turn to him. The boy's eyes hardened as he looked at him, his blue eyes full of hate. "I-I'm sorry for what I did to you." Ludwig walked closer, swallowing nervously. He looked down at the child, who didn't answer. Before he could say another word, a loud boom was heard in the distance. Another bomb? The German pulled out a gun, while the boy tensed beside him. He turned to tell him to run, but the child vanished before his eyes.

"W-what?"

_France_

"...And that is how we cook the crepes!" Francis said, flipping the thin pancake over over. The boy beside him nodded as he watched, blue eyes staring at the crepe. Picking him up, the French man moved him to the table, where he deposited the pancake on top of the ever-growing stack of them.

"Bon Appetite!" Francis passed a plate of crepes to the child, who started to eat. He smiled as he watched boy eat, ruffling his blonde hair effectionately.

"Ah, you look so much like me Jacques." he proclaimed, causing the little boy to pause and look up at the French man. He smiled, causing the boy to laugh. The little boy reminded him somewhat of Canada, before Arthur had taken him away. But now he had another child to keep him company. A loud booming noise was heard outside, making both of them look up.

"Strange." Francis muttered, turning to look back at Jacques. He frowned as he saw that the boy had disappeared. "Huh?"

_Ethiopia_

Yusef rubbed his eyes it tiredly, as he started looking through his baskets for food to cook. "It is almost time for dinner, and I haven't even begun." Looking outside, he saw a little boy riding on top of a cow as the laborers made kept the plow steady. He giggled as the cow's hips turned from side to side, therefore turning him side to side. After the plow had reached the end, the laborers detached it and handed the cow's rope to the child. Taking it, the boy led it behind Yusef's house to tie it with the others. He came inside, to see the older man cooking. "Go wash your hands Yaekob," he said without turning around. The boy ran out, before returning shortly after. Yusef placed two plates of couscous and beef on the table, before turning to the boy. "Let us eat-" He was interrupted by a loud booming, which cause both of them to peer out the door. There was no sign of a bombing. "Weird." he murmured, before realizing that the boy had disappeared. "What?"

_England_

The British man stared at his opponent, poised at any moment to strike. The other male stared back, confusion in his bright green eyes. Leaping forward, Arthur attacked an imaginary attacker, striking and blocking shots that were supposedly aimed at him. A small boy watched him, excited as the sword in the Brit's hand shone in the afternoon sun. After a few minutes Arthur stopped, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"That was quite a workout!" he said, smiling. He turned to the child, and held out the weapon.

"Want a go Jacob?" The boy furrowed his brow, which like the older's was quite impressive, before shaking his head.

Arthur laughed as he picked up the boy. "I thought so. Let's get some tea!" A few minutes later, the man was blowing on a steaming cup of Earl Grey. Handing it to the child, he sat back to drink his own tea. A booming sound made him pause mid-sip, a confused look on both of there faces.

"Is Alfred using those bloody firecrackers again?" he wondered out loud, before a crash to his attention. Where Jacob had been, a teacup was smashed on the floor amidst a puddle of tea. "What in the world?"

_A tiny country in the Middle East_

Jacob landed on the dusty ground with a thud. Standing up, he looked around to see many more little boys in a crowd. Some of them were pale like him, while others were as dark as the hot chocolate he occasionally saw Arthur drink. Walking over to a Hispanic looking boy, he tapped him on the shoulder.

"Pardon me, what's your name?" he asked.

"Me llamo Diego!" the boy responded cheerfully.

"And what about you guys?" Jacob asked loudly, turning to the others.

"Jakob! Jacques! Yaekob! Yakov! Jeppe! Yagop! Giacomo! Jakub! Yakup!" various voices rang out, a bevy of languages clashing. The boys looked at each other, confused. Removing their shirts, they looked over other. Same burn scars and sword wounds, same swatsika burned into their right shoulder. How those wounds came to be, most didn't know, but they all had the same ones.

"Who are we?" one boy asked aloud, as the others chimed in. "Who am I, might be more precise." another ventured. The boys nodded in agreement.

"I know who we are." One boy waved his hands, getting the others attention. "I've been here a long time, so I know. At least, I think I do. We're-"

"You are Yisrael!" came a loud voice, startling the group. Turning, they saw an old man walking towards them. Stretching out his hand as he walked, he touched each boy on the head as he passed by. "I am Yaakov, your namesake. My name was changed to Yisrael!" The man looked over the boys, a stern look in his eyes.

"Yisrael you once were, and Yisrael you shall be again." The boys nodded in amazment, not noticing the slow change coming over them. Their skin tones started to lighten or darken to an olive complexion, and their hair changed to a dark brown. Eyes changed to a forest green, with specks of blue, brown, and gold evident in shining eyes. One by one the boys started to fade, as a tall person appeared in the midst of them. As the last one vanished, a teenaged boy sat in the dust of the desert.

"I...remember." he murmured, looking over his body with growing wonder. "I'm a country."

"Yes, you are. Yisrael, Yaakov Ben-David." The boy walked over to the man, standing before him.

"It's been a while since I've been a country." Yaakov said, smiling.

The old man smiled as well, before turning to walk away. "You will face many more trials." the man said, continuing to walk. "Those scars will only increase. But you will stay strong." He disappeared, leaving the teen by himself.

"I see." Yaakov turned and started walking towards a tall building in the distance. "First order of business. Start getting my country back in order."

**Hi! This is another author's note(sorry for being so annoying!) I was originally planning to have America in this listing as well, but since the transfer of American Jews to Israel is more recent, I didn't include it. Also, they don't have a cool name like Sephardim or Ashkenazim. Just...American Jews. Yes, all those quiet little boys are the Jewish population in various countries. I only picked a few since the list goes on and on, but the list(barring France and England) included Sephardim, Askenazim, and Beta Israel. While I probably should have used Russia or Poland to represent the Askenazim, Germany played such a big role with them...I decided to use him instead. I included the other two for their significant Jewish population during WWII. That's all! Please review, it makes the author happy!**

**Edit: Has changed Ethiopia's relationship with Israel. The Beta Israel were outcasts of that country, running from torture and other horrible things. Making them seem all cheerful isn't accurate. I apologize if I offended any fellow Beta Israelis...I'm a jerk.**


	2. A Little Sibling Rivalry

As he got closer to his destination, Yaakov recognized the structure, or what used to be a structure.

"The temple ruins." he murmured softly, bowing in respect. When he looked up, he saw another boy had was standing there, his back to him. Approaching quietly, he put his hand up to block as a knife suddenly raced for his throat.

"Isn't that a bit hasty?" he asked, grinning cheerfully.

The boy with the knife glare at him, anger in his eyes soon replaced with confusion. "Who are you?" he asked, pulling the knife back.

"I'm Yaakov!" he replied cheerfully.

The boy gave him a dry glance. "Your country name, not your human name."

Yaakov chuckled, as he pulled out his chain. A Star of David hung on it, sparkling in the afternoon sun. "I think you know who I am. Israel."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he found the knife coming towards him again. Dodging it, he pulled out his own, and caught the others' in the serrated edge, locking the two together.

"You...you're not a country." the teen snapped, glaring at the other. "This land belongs to me, not you!"

The nation in question glared back, before kicking the other country away. "To you? You wish. Arthur currently owns it, but that's a lie too." Yaakov said, grinning. "You know as well as I do whose land it really is...brother."

Abdullah stood up, a furious look on his face. The two men looked at each other, surprise growing on their features. They had almost identical faces, except Abdullah's eyes were brown, and glaring. Yaakov smirked before rubbing the back of his head.

"We're not just brothers. We might be twins." The other country spat angrily, before walking off.

"Hey, where are you going?" the Israeli asked.

"To get my real brothers!" came the angry reply. The nation's eyes widened as he turned and ran for another building. Banging on the door, a man let him in, giving the country a confused stare.

"Who are you?" the man asked, stepping back as Yaakov ran in. "No time to explain! I have news for my boss." Yaakov said quickly, running up the stairs. "Call all the IDF's top generals together, immediately! It's started!"

The man gave him a confused stare, letting him by. Rushing up the stairs, he tripped, tumbling into the room. Several men stopped chatting to stare at him, ne walking over to give him a hand.

"Young man, do you not realize the situation we're in? Why are you here?" He asked, waiting for Yaakov to brush himself off.

"You might not know this, but I'm your country." He replied, staring at them. "And I have news for you. It's started."

* * *

A gunshot in the distance signaled the arrival of his guests. Telling the others to stay inside, he walked outside to see several men waiting for him.

"Well, this nice." he murmured, giving a small smile to a familiar Egyptian country. "Gupta, I remember when I was enslaved at your place for 400 years!" Gupta remained silent, but pulled his head covering a bit farther on his head. Though the country was about as old as Israel, he looked only slightly older than the teen.

"And you," He turned to the others. "Ismael, Kaseem, Dalair, and Malik. Couldn't get rid of me after all." Gupta glared at Ismael, as did the other Arab nations. The Iraqi nation glanced at them, before putting up his hands in surrender.

"I thought I'd taken care of him!" He said, smiling sheepishly.

"If you had just killed the Jews off instead of enslaving them, maybe that would be the case!" Malik snapped. Kaseem, Dalair, and Gupta nodded in agreement.

"I'm still here ya know." Yaakov muttered, watching them all with a slightly amused face. They turned to him, pulling out several guns in the process. Yaakov grimaced.

"Is that really necessary?" He asked, raising his hands.

"Definitely." Kaseem said curtly. Yaakov smiled, but shook his head. "Your call." He dropped to the ground, as shots rang through the air. The Arab nations dropped as they got hit, bodies hitting the ground. Yaakov stood up, and whipped out his own gun. Several soldiers ran up beside him, pointing their rifles at the countries, who started to stir. Gupta got up first, glaring at the Israelis.

"Cheap." He muttered, clutching a bleeding arm.

"Says the guy who came with four other countries." He replied, returning the glare.

"Not only four. We also have Yemen, Sudan, and Pakistan helping." The soldiers glanced at Yaakov, who glared at Gupta.

"Bring them all!" He shouted angrily. "I'll still win."

The other Arab nations had stood up by now, and gave him a smirk. "We'll be back with our full power." Dalair said, turning to walk away. The others followed him, with Ismael glaring back at him. One of the soldiers nudged the country, who turned to face him.

"Are you sure about this?" The man asked, leveling a gaze with Yaakov. The Israeli nation nodded, turning back to watch his brothers walk away. "It's about time we told them to stop shoving us about." He muttered. "This is our country."

* * *

Shots rang out, as booms echoed through the air when a missile was fired. Clutching his side, Yaakov knelt in the trenches beside the IDF soldiers, who were firing at incoming attackers.

"Sir, are we ready to go out?" One of the generals asked, refilling his gun. Yaakov nodded, raising his hand. "On my mark. Ehad, Shnayim, Shalosha!" He vaulted over the blockade, firing at the incoming army. Seeing one of his men fall, he ran over to him.

"Commander, we are almost overrun over here!" The soldier said, holding his left arm. Hastily tying up the wound, Yaakov wiped the blood off his hands.

"We're not done yet." he muttered, looking around. Most of his forces were evenly matched, but he still had a trump card up his sleeve.

"Mahal, swamp em!" He yelled into his headset. A loud whooping could be heard from a distance away, as a surge of new troops emerged from a recently landed plane. Some of the newcomers grabbed the injured and ran them to the plane, while the others provided cover.

"Who're they?" the soldier asked, watched thwo blondes run by, after they flashed a salute to Yaakov. The country saluted back, helping the soldier up.

"WWII Veterans Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams" He murmured, walking to the plane. "They're volunteers, like the rest." Yaakov didn't mention that they were also countries; he was pretty sure he'd get in trouble for that. After making sure the soldier was getting medical attention, he ran after the countries.

"Hey, thanks for helping out." He said, coming up behind Alfred. The blonde country turned around with a grin. "No problem little guy...who are you again?" he asked, looking him over. Yaakov was about to answer, but Matthew beat him to it.

"It's Israel, you know, the newest country?" The Canadian murmured, trying to get his brother to remember.

Alfred nodded. "Oh yeah. You've fended off this many guys by yourself? Pretty impressive dude."

Matthew sighed. "By the way, you're invited to the next world meeting."

Yaakov glanced at Gupta, watching as his brother ran in the direction of his country. "Are they going to be there?" He asked, gesturing to his brothers, who were leaving in various directions.

"I don't think so, they rarely show up. Well, Gupta does, but he's usually quiet." Matthew said after a moment. Hearing shouts of victory, Yaakov smiled as the IDF and Mahal cheered.

"I guess I will grace you all with my presence." he joked. "There are some people waiting for me I think."

The two American countries gave him a curious look, but got distracted as the soldiers crowded around them, thanking them. Yakov broke away from them, and walked in the direction of Jerusalem.

"I knew you'd cause trouble for me." Abdullah muttered, not bothering to turn around. He was sitting in the ruins of the temple again, his head covering on the ground beside him. He wasn't bleeding, but his voice was filled with pain. "You've been here for a few months, and you're already trying to replace me." He stood up, walking over to Yaakov. The Palestinian stood as close to the Israeli as possible, brown eyes glaring into green ones. "Why couldn't you have been killed off by Hamu? Or Roma?" he snapped.

Yaakov narrowed his eyes. "Don't say it." He muttered.

"How about Antonio? Or even Ludwig? How could he have failed?" Abdullah yelled, an insane glint in his eye. Yaakov slapped the other across the face, making his face snap to the side. The other stepped back, feeling his rapidly reddening cheek.

"Never. Ever. Bring up that guy again in front of me!" He snapped, grabbing Abdullah by the front of his shirt. The Arab shrunk visibly, fear clear in his eyes. Yaakov dropped him, running back towards his soldiers. The swastika on his shoulder burned slightly, reminding him of everything that guy had done to him. He hoped he wouldn't have to see that jerk in the meeting. If he did...for his sake, the European be bulletproof.

**Abdullah- Palestine**

**Ismael- Iraq**

**Kaseem- Syria**

**Dalair- Jordan**

**Malik- Lebanon**

**Ehad, Shnayim, Shalosha!- One, two, three! in masculine Hebrew. Spelled out for your convenience.**

**This fight represent the Arab-Israeli war, which started the day after Israel declared itself a country. Five of countries came against them, plus assistance from other countries...and Israel won, mostly impart to the efforts of the IDF and the Mahal.**


	3. First Meeting

**Edit: Heheh...I feel like an idiot. Because of the fact that Spain is one of my favorite characters), I conveniently left out the Spanish Inquisition, which-while not as bad as the Holocaust-did affect the Sephardic Jews. So I am fixing that. He'll still have a relatively decent relationship due to their assist during WWII, but not the usual huggy-huggy one he has with kids.**

The older man readjusted the country's tie again, pulling the blue silk into place.

"Now remember, behave." His boss said, placing his kippah atop his curls. Yaakov nodded, a frown still in place. The man gave the teen a pat, seeing his discomfort.

"It's only till the meeting's over." he said.

Yaakov shook his head, placing his Star in his pocket. "That's not it...I wonder how the others are going to look at me." he murmured."I'm not exactly Mr. Popular. And what if that guy is there?"

Ben Gurion sighed, handing him his bags."We can't change what the Germans did, first thing. Second, I'm sure the others will be fine with you." He replied, handing the nation a plane ticket. "Now, get out there and make us proud."

Yaakov nodded, walking out the door. The taxi was already at the door, and after loading his bags into the car, climbed in."Ben Gurion Airport, please." The taxi arrived at the airport after a while, and the nation got on the plane just before it took off. Gazing out the window, he watched as the plane left the tiny strip of land that was his country. "This should be fun." He said, before sitting back in his seat. He had a long trip to London…

* * *

Arthur sipped his tea half-heartedly, a sad look on his face.

"What's wrong with you Arturo?" Antonio asked, plopping down in the chair across from him, with a struggling Lovino in his arms. The Brit noticed that the other country seemed pretty down as well, but he wasn't about to comfort him. "Well, a little boy that used to live with me suddenly disappeared a few months ago." He murmured, staring into his Earl Grey.

Antonio nodded, hugging Lovino sadly. "This bastard lost some kid that was with him. Me and Feliciano did too." The Italian quipped, rolling his eyes.

"Did you say disappearing boy?" Francis said, popping up near Antonio. "I lost mon petite garcon as well!" The country wailed, oblivious to the annoyed looks Arthur gave him. The three looked at each other.

"Coincidence?" Prussia asked, emerging from behind Lovino. "West lost a little kid too!"

"So did I!" Ethiopia muttered, passing by as he went to get a cup of coffee.

Arthur furrowed his thick eyebrows, confusion etched in his face. "Well, this is odd. We all lost a little boy, probably around the same time." He said, looking at them all. "But why?" The other countries shrugged, equally confused.

A loud banging caused the five to look up, as a familiar blonde barged in. "Hey dudes!" Alfred announced loudly, causing them all to sigh audibly.

"Alfred, sit down." Arthur muttered, taking another sip of his tea. "And where is your brother?"

"Right here." A quiet voice was heard beside him. The British nation jumped as he turned to see Matthew sitting in the chair next to him. "Oh, right. So, we should be getting started-" Alfred stood up suddenly. "Oh yeah! My little buddy isn't here!"

Francis gave him a curious look. "Buddy?"

Yao shrugged, munching on a mooncake. "No idea, aru."

Vash reloaded his gun, a tense look on his face. "He better be wearing clothes." He muttered, giving the currently stripping France a dark look.

The American bounded out of his seat. He poked his head out the door, as the other countries watched. "Come on, we're all waiting for you!"

"Shouldn't I wait out here?"

"No, come on in!" The American backed up, as a teenaged boy walked in. "Everyone, this is…what's your name again?"

The boy gave Alfred a dry glance. "My name is Yaakov." he muttered, rolling his eyes. "It isn't that hard to pronounce."

"Yeah, what he said. This guy is cool! He took on eight nations with the hero's help, and won!" The teenager elbowed the American, chuckling. "It wasn't just you, idiot. Let's just get over with this."

Walking over to Lovino, he took a seat beside the Italian, who looked him over. "Bastard doesn't look so tough." Lovino muttered in Italian.

"Bastard can whip your ass." Yaakov replied in the same language. The Italian blinked in surprise, before laughing.

"I like him!" The other nations gave the two glances, but didn't ask what had transpired. Alfred laughed as well, watching his friend smirk.

"So Yakov, Yaacob…what's your name in English?" The country paused for a minute, before snapping his fingers. "Jacob."

Arthur looked up in surprise. "Your name is Jacob?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah, nice to see you again Arthur."

Antonio raised an eyebrow as well, confused. "And in Spanish?"

Yaakov grinned. "Diego!" The Spaniard's jaw dropped, before his face lit up in happiness. "Diego~" he shouted, hugging the teen, who blinked in surprise before attempting to shove him off.

"Are you really that little kid who was at my house?" Arthur asked, still staring in shock.

"Wait, how were you in both of our houses?"

Yaakov smirked. "Not just yours. I know Yusef, Feliks, Lu-Gilbert, Lovino and Feliciano, Ivan, Gupta, and some others." The countries gave him a surprised look.

"W-who are you?" Lovino asked, suddenly worried. Yaakov gave him a friendly smile. "I'm Israel!"

* * *

"So in other words, since your people were in each of us, that's why there were so many of you?" Arthur asked, staring at Jacob. He nodded nervously, not used to being the center of attention. Twenty minutes later, he had been poked to his breaking point. "You should have told me who you were when I first offered assistance." The teen shrugged, taking a sip of his water.

"We can start now, oui?" Francis asked, his hand growing closer and closer to the teen's butt. One glare stopped his fingers, but the country still gave him pervy glances.

"No, we have to wait for West!" Prussia said, ruffling Jacob's hair. The country stiffened, a strange look on his face. "He always…oh." Gilbert's words stopped as he noticed Jacob scowling. "Mein Gott...I forgot about that." The other countries gave him a confused look, before the realization dawned on them.

"The Holocaust." Alfred's eyes widened as things clicked into place.

"Mios Dio, your people." The Spaniard murmured.

"You're hardly one to talk." Arthur muttered, looking away as Antonio shot him a cold look.

Jacob's eyes turned steely, as a burning sensation spread over his back in remembrance. "Yeah. My people..."

The door opened suddenly, causing most nations to jump. Ludwig walked in, Feliciano following behind him.

"I am sorry for being late!" The German said, not noticing the expressions across the faces of the countries, or the new nation seated near Lovino. Feliciano peeked around Jacob's chair, surprising the Israeli.

"Ve~ there's a new person here!" he said, smiling. Alfred gave the country a horrified look, while Arthur tried to shush him. Ludwig turned to look at Jacob, not recognizing him. "It's nice to see a new face. Who are you?"

Jacob clenched his fists and looked up at him, green eyes meeting blue. "Israel…Yaakov Ben David!" he said loudly. Feliciano started chatting about how cute he was, despite Lovino's attempts to shut him up. The two country's still looked at each.

Ludwig stared at the boy. Something about him seemed familiar. Looking around at the other nations, he notice that none(except Feliciano) could meet his eyes. Did he say Yaakov? That sounded like….it couldn't be.

"What is it…in my language?" He asked.

The boy took a shaky breath, as if he were in pain. "Ja-Jakob."

The German froze. "But…you disappeared! You left…" he stuttered out. The child from his dreams haunted him once more, even more real than before.

"I did leave, I became my own country!" Jacob snapped, glaring at the country. "Do you know what you left me with?" The teen slipped off his suit jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt.

Antonio grabbed the boy's arm, confused. "Diego? What are you doing?"

Ludwig's face hardened suddenly, in a desperate attempt to banish his ghost. "No, I don't! I don't even know you!" Jacob gave him a dark grin, backing up as he pulled off his tank top.

"Son of a…" Lovino stared at the boy's body, stunned into silence. Besides burn marks marring his skin, there were large pale scars that had been stitched up in the past. Many of his scars overlapped each other, making it hard to find a patch that had not been scarred. But one of the most noticeable scars; a large swastika had been burned into his right shoulder blade. About the size of two hands, the swatsika covered up other scars entered its area, before being swallowed up by the darkened skin. Under it, the word _JUDE _had been cut into the flesh, now pale white beneath the darkened Nazi symbol.

"Take a good long look!" Jacob shouted, glaring at Ludwig, whose face was pale. "That's what you left me with! That's the mark of 6 million Jews dying in your damn concentration camps! Do you remember me now?" The German said nothing as Jacob sat down again. "Start the meeting." He said, startling Arthur out of his daze. "O-of course." He stood up, and started talking about the economy in various countries. Most of them, including Arthur himself, had trouble concentrating on the meeting. The teen was still shirtless, his scarred body being scrutinized by the others. Arthur's eyes were fixed on the knife hanging from a chain around the teens' neck and the scars criss crossing his body, distracting him during his talk. He thought of pointing out that having weapons showing was prohibited...but thought better of it. All the countries remained quiet for the remainder of Arthur's talk. There wasn't much to say anyway.

**(A/N) Changed his name to Jacob to make is easier. Spell check is a pain...**


	4. Forgiveness, Maybe

Jacob fixed his tie in the bathroom, sighing. At the signal for break, he'd grabbed his clothes and ran for it. He blew it big time...Ben Gurion would be so disappointed. Not only did he yell at Ludwig, who was supposedly already paying dearly for the way his boss had acted, he had stripped in the middle of the meeting!

"I'm seriously screwed…" He muttered.

"Ja, ya kinda are." He turned to see Gilbert washing his hands beside him. Since the German ex-nation had been pretty much dissolved by WWII, he had no problems with the albino...except his incessant love of beer and awesomeness.

"Big brother Gil." He mumbled, staring at the ex-country.

The country ruffled his hair, grinning. "Hey, everyone causes problems at a meeting."

Jacob sighed, clenching his Star in his hand. "I just…got so mad at him! He did all this stuff, then he pretends I don't exist!"

Gilbert nodded, walking the country out. "Ja, that was totally not awesome." He agreed, stopping him outside of the door. "He needs to apologize, and work to make things right." The Prussian said, patting him on the shoulder. "And you need to forgive him."

Jacob opened his mouth to object, but Gilbert cut him off. "Awesome people can forgive others, no matter what they've done."

The Israeli nodded, allowing his head to fall on Gilbert's shoulder. "Ja, I get it." he muttered, taking on a German accent. Gilbert chuckled, patting him on the head. "Be awesome, it solves world problems."

Ludwig was quiet during the whole break, his face buried in his hands.

"Ludwig, are you okay?" Feliciano asked, rubbing his friends shoulders.

Arthur sighed, wishing for another cup of tea, but didn't feel like moving. "If you committed genocide of a people, would you be okay?" Alfred asked, looking at the Italian, who gave him a pitiful look.

"It wasn't Ludwig's fault!" Feliciano protested.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened, and he did participate." Antonio pointed out. "It doesn't change the fact that I did it, Feliks did it, Yusef did it. It doesn't make it any better." The countries turned to Ludwig, who didn't speak.

"Well? What are you going to do about it?" Kiku asked, watching the German.

Ludwig looked up at his friend, sadness in his eyes. "There is nothing I can do." he murmured quietly.

"You could entice him to become with me, da!" Ivan said, chuckling darkly.

Yao sighed, hugging his panda toy tightly. "You must apologize, aru!" He said, turning to Ludwig. "You must beg him to forgive you!"

The German sighed as well, hand covering his eyes. "He'll never forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me! I was the one who burned that symbol into him, me!"

Feliciano patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure he will forgive you, ve!" The other nations nodded, though most looked like they would be sick.

"Fine! I will apologize." Ludwig conceded, much to the other's happiness.

Vash watched them, a bored look on his face. "That kid better put some clothes on." He muttered, earning an elbow jab from Austria.

The door opened, as Gilbert and Jacob walked in, both of them laughing as they walked over to the table. Arthur gave Ludwig a glance, flicking his gaze between him and Jacob.

The German started to stand up, but he stopped as the young nation began to speak.

"I want to apologize for acting immature." He murmured, gaining everyone's attention. "I held up the meeting, and caused a ruckus. I also brought up problems that should have been left untouched. For that, I'm sorry." He bowed low, staying in that position till Francis made him straighten up.

Ludwig cleared his throat loudly, making the others stare at him. "I-I want to apologize to Jacob-Yaakov for the crimes I did you your people." He turned to the teenager, who stared at him. The German lowered his eyes. "Nothing I could do could make up for it, but if you want to shoot me, you're free to."

Jacob's eyes visibly brightened, an interested look on his face. "Then I'll do that."

Arthur dropped his teacup. "What!?" he squeaked, watching in surprise as Jacob pulled a gun from…where did he pull it from? Jacob aimed at the German, hands not shaking and gaze level.

"Diego-" Antonio started but stopped as shots rang out. The countries closed their eyes, expecting the worst. Opening their eyes, they looked around to see Jacob putting his gun away.

"But…what did you shoot?" Alfred asked, seeing the German unharmed. The Israeli pointed to the water dispenser in the corner, where water was pouring onto the ground.

"It was only blanks in the gun." He explained, smirking. "If I actually shot Ludwig, Ben Gurion would kill me." Turning to Ludwig, he gave him a pained smile. "I forgive you," he said quietly. "But it's going to be a long time before I can trust you." Ludwig nodded in understanding. The Israeli chuckled sitting down in his seat again. "Don't we have a meeting to continue?"

Lovino leaned over Jacob, and cautiously poked his back, right over his swatsika. No response.

"It doesn't hurt?" He murmured, surprised.

The young nation turned to face him, grinning broadly. "Nope~ they only hurt ever so often." He explained, reaching over to pull on Lovino's curl.

"A-ah!" The Italian yelped, pulling away. "Chigi!"

Antonio laughed as he pulled them both into a hug. "Ah, Boss is so happy to have two tomatoes!" He said, hauling them onto his lap.

Jacob laughed at Lovino, who was trying desperately to get away. He didn't move, content to stay in the warm embrace._ It's nice to not be threatened for a minute or two..even if it reminds me of unpleasant things. Though it also reminds me of tomatoes..._he thought as his eyes started to close.

"Hello Gupta!" Kiku said, as the door opened again. Jacob's eyes flew open, and he jumped out of Antonio's arms. Gupta looked up, his surprised look quickly turning to a glare. They each whipped out a gun, pointing it at the other's forehead.

"Whoa! Calm down!" Arthur said quickly, walking over to them with Kiku following. "No fights in the middle of a meeting!" Arthur pulled Jacob away, while Kiku moved Gupta back, murmuring something to the Arab nation.

"Calm down." The Brit huffed, bringing Jacob to sit beside him in his chair, as Gupta glared at him from his seat. Antonio frowned at Arthur, while Francis started placed his hand on Jacob. Feeling a hand on his thigh, he closed his eyes.

"Get any closer to my vital regions, and you'll find a knife in yours." The hand retreated, as Francis started muttering in French. "I can understand you, and if you don't shut up, I'll translate it to Arthur." The French country stopped muttering immediately. Germany gave the two of them confused glances, surprised that the pervert had stopped. He never stopped unless he was hit a few times...but never mind.

"So Diego..." The teen looked up to see Antonio smiling at him from behind his chair.

"Si hermano?" Antonio laughed as he ruffled Jacob's hair. "Would you be coming to visit me after all this?" he asked, as Arthur gasped in horror. "He's coming to see me of course!" the Brit said indignantly.

Alfred patted him on the shoulder. "The lil guy is coming to see me!"

"He'll be seeing me, aru!"

"No me!"

Said nation backed away from the arguing countries, bumping into a tall, pale haired man.

"You'll become one with me, da?" he asked, smiling. The other nations stopped arguing immediately, watching them.

"Become one with you?" The teen repeated, tilting his head to the side. The man nodded, still smiling. "I guess I don't mind..." he said, causing the others to gasp. Ivan smirked, starting to speak but was immediately cut off. "But you have to become one with me first! I want your unyielding support! You'll also need to help me fight against all my enemies: Syria, Iraq, the Brotherhood, Hamas..." As the boy continued on, the Russian's enthusiasm started to fade, as a blank look came over his face.

"Da, da, whatever you want, just shut up." he muttered, bopping the teen on the head.

Jacob turned to the silent nations, slightly annoyed. "Guys, this shouldn't be so hard to solve." he said. The countries stared at him, ceasing their bickering. "So who are you going to visit first?" they asked in unison.

"I'm going to Ivan's house first. He was the first to recognize me after all." He replied, pointing to the large man.

"You are?" Arthur glanced up at the Russian, who nodded his approval along with Jacob.

"I'll visit all of you guys in time." He replied, turning to the other countries. "So make sure you have a room open for me!"

Lovino walked over, clapping the teen on the shoulder. "Come on bastardo, you're coming with me." He said, glaring at him. "We're going to get food, before Eyebrows makes you eat his food."

Arthur stood up quickly, jabbing an angry finger at Lovino. "My food tastes just fine wanker!" The two immediately started arguing, while most other countries joined in.

Jacob shook his head, quietly sneaking out the room. "Crazy guys." He chuckled to himself, walking down the hallway. As he prepared to round a corner, he noticed a shadow. He stepped back, just as the person lunged forward. Jacob ducked, looking up at the person. She glared down at him, a glittering knife in her hand. He quirked an eyebrow, getting up slowly. "Nice to see you again too Natalia."

**EDIT: The US wasn't the first country to recognize Israel de jure, the Soviet Union was. Shot for idiocy. **

**(A/N) By the way, I am not pairing Israel with America. I hate it with a passion; I can only see them as close friends. The one picture I saw of them in bed together ruined any potential they had for me. I have been scarred for life by it.**


	5. July of 1941

**I apologize for being slow. This author has been swallowed up by reality.**

**As a present, I'm going to try and update all of my stories in time for my birthday. Well...maybe most of them at least.**

The Belarusian paused, frowning as she stared at the teen.

"Who are you?" She asked, her knife disappearing up her sleeve. He shrugged, brushing himself off as he stared at her. The only thing that changed from his memory of her was her outfit; the usual nave blue dress had been replaced by a women's suit dress. Her bow was still in it's usual place as well, he noted. The country narrowed her eyes, taking him roughly by the chin.

"I'll ask you again: who are you?" Jacob reached into his pocket, pulling the Star of David forth from his pocket. Natalia released him as if burned, her eyes locked on the tiny chain.

"I'm Yaakov…but I think you remember me by a different name. Jakaŭ." He murmured, staring at her. She shook her head quickly, taking a few steps back as her eyes teared up.

"Ludwig…H-He took you. He took you away!" She stammered, flinching as he tried to step closer. "I thought you were dead!"

"Not quite." Jacob replied, turning as they heard footsteps coming from down the hall. Feliks and Toris arrived behind Natalia, looking between the two curiously.

"Natalia, did he hurt you?" Toris asked, looking down at her. She shook her head quickly, as Poland took in a sharp breath.

"Toris…he has it." The LIthuanian frowned, before his eyes landed on the Star in Jacob's hand. He walked over, gently picking up the chain and staring at it.

"Jakub.""Jokūbas." The two said in unison, before exchanging looks. Feliks walked over as well, looking over the boy.

"He doesn't like, look like me anymore." He muttered, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. "I thought you were dead. The Ashkenazim, they-"

"They were pretty much eradicated." Toris finished, looking back to Natalia, who nodded in agreement. "The last time I saw you was when they carried you off…"

Feliks turned Jacob to face him, smiling sadly. "Jakub…you remember me right?" He asked. Jacob nodded, staring at the ground.

"Of course I remember. Big brother Feliks." He whispered, the heel of his hand wiping tears away.

* * *

_Poland, July 1941_

Feliks held the younger boy's hand as they walked through the streets, looking around in growing worry. Anti-Semitic signs were put up everywhere, while protesters stood outside Jewish shops and yelled.

"This is like, getting out of control." The Pole murmured, placing his hand over the blue star on the boy's jacket. Jakub shivered, hearing the phrase 'filthy Jew' shouted over and over, while several angry faces turned to shriek at him as well. Feliks glared at them, pulling him closer to himself.

"Don't worry, we're almost there." Shoving past several protestors, they went into a small bakery. Natalia and Toris sat there already, looking up as they entered.

"Ah Feliks, you finally arrived." Toris waved at them, waiting till they sat down before passing Feliks a cup of coffee. "You took long enough."

"I had to like, get through the protestors." He replied, watching as Natalia passed Jakub a pączek. He started eating with a wide grin on his face, oblivious to the conversation around him. "They're getting worse."

"I understand that. I can feel it…more are disappearing." Natalia murmured, staring outside. "And it's by my own people as well. My insides are twisted, not being able to decide which side to fight for. It's hurts..."

Toris shook his head. "I just don't understand it. They're not devils, they aren't witches. They're humans too." He glanced at Jakub, before leaning closer to Feliks. "They might take him you know."

"I won't let them." He muttered, huffing. "It's only happened in a few places anyway! Like Germany! That's it!'

"No…It's happening to everyone." Natalia stirred her coffee uneasily. "I fear for Jakaŭ. Yekaterina is watching him for today, so I could see you two but…her Іаков could be taken any day now."

"The same for Jokūbas." Toris agreed. "He is just sitting in my house. I couldn't trust anyone to watch him."

Feliks stood up abruptly, hands shaking on the table. "You guys….you have to leave now." He said in a hushed tone, watching the man at the counter opened the back door and rushed out.

All three looked up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Natalia asked, frowning. Suddenly, Lithuania cried out, his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. The others turned to stare at him, before Natalia doubled over in pain.

"Leave now! You know what's happening, get out of here and save him!" Feliks snapped. The two nodded, running out the open back door. Feliks looked down to see Jakub on the ground, blood pouring from a gash across his stomach. He grit his teeth, feeling a horrible pain rip across his abdomen.

"Jakub…." He hissed, moving to the boy's side. "I know it hurts, but you have to get up. Now."

"I-It hurts Feliks…" The boy murmured, tears pouring from his eyes as he tried to sit up. Screams could be heard outside, almost muffled by the responding yells and cheers.

"I know, bear with me." The two jogged out the door, running through several alleyways unnoticed before an officer spotted them.

"Over there! One of the pigs is escaping!" Poland glanced over his shoulder to see a mob of people heading towards them, guns in hand as well as knives and torches.

"Run…run!" He shouted, grabbing the boy's hand and turning down a corner. But they were there too. At every place they ran to, more people were there. Feliks wondered how in the world they ended up in the town square, but his throats were muddled with pain as he felt people turning on one group, the screams and rise for mercy filling the air. Jakub gripped his jacket sleeve, crying put as hands latched onto him, one person ripping off the Blue star and tossing it to the side.

"Leave him alone!" The Polish country struggled against the arms pulling him away and forcing him to the ground. A small silver card fell from his pocket, and the officer from earlier picked it up and glanced at it. Feliks stared at him, locking eyes with the man. The officer tossed it back down, grabbing Jakub by the hand.

"Not this one." He said, pointing to Feliks. "This one." He shoved Jakub forward, other people shoving him and other people along. "Drag him along though." Feliks was dragged kicking and yelling as the crowd led people marked with the blue Star along till they reached a barn. The smell of kerosene was thick in the air, and the people shoved inside the barn screamed out against their oncoming doom. the officer dragged Jakub over last, exchanging a look with Feliks.

"Big brother Feliks!" Jakub shouted, just before he was thrown in and the doors closed. The officer lit a cigar, taking a puff of it before rolling it under the small crack under the barn doors. The inside filled with flames, as the screams reached a feverish pitch. Feliks screamed in pain, coughing up blood as the crowd slowly dissipated. Several soldiers stood around the barn, shooting any who made it out of the barn. The officer lit another cigar, smoking it with a calm face.

"Take a good look Ojczyzna." He murmured, gesturing at the barn. "This is just the beginning.

Feliks glared at the man, before passing out.

* * *

Feliks sighed at the memory, looking away from him. "I can't believe you survived." He murmured, patting the boy on the head. "Though you are a country now…I'm proud of you."

"I am as well." Toris handed him back the necklace, smiling. "It's great to be able to see you again."

Natalia nodded, taking Jacob's hand in hers. "And if you leave again, I'll be punish you."

Jacob grinned. "Thanks. For everything." He said. "And thanks for your support Natalia."

"What support? I could barely do anything." She muttered, frowning.

"I know you slept outside every night while the Bielskis hid my people in the woods." Jacob replied. "I know Feliks kept my star in his jacket pocket all these years. And Toris, you made a small loaf of challah every Shabbat, even though I wasn't there."

Natalia wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, Feliks followed suit, while Toris hugged all three of them.

"Welcome back Jacob."

**(A/N) Polish suffered the largest in the Holocaust, losing 3 million Jews, 90% of the Jewish population there. The above massacre was based on the massacre in Jedwabne, where 300 to 1,600 were killed. The one about Natalia is a head canon I saw, while the other two I made up. In case you don't know much about the Bielskis, watch Defiance. It's an awesome movie, and serves to remind us that there are and always will be badass Jews.**


	6. Russian Hats Part 1

_December 1991_

Ivan opened the door to his house, walking in wordlessly. Jacob followed him, staring around the interior.  
"You've renovated." He muttered, running his hands over the furniture. "But your taste is as old fashioned as ever."  
"Says the boy who'd be wearing a turban and tunic without my fashion sense." The Russian raised an eyebrow, watching as the boy struggled to contain his laughter.  
"Whatever you say Ivan." Jacob cleared his throat, the phrase 'crazy old man' heard murmured quietly. Ivan rolled his eyes, gesturing upstairs.  
"Take any empty room. Dinner will be ready soon, so wash up." The teen nodded, jogging upstairs. The long hallway with both sides lined with doors was reminiscent, though the silence certainly wasn't. The sounds of people talking was missing, along with the smiling faces of the other countries. Opening the door to Natalia's room, he glanced inside before walking to his old room. Besides the newly folded sheets, it looked the same as when he had left it so long ago. Same light blue sheets and rug, picture of him with Sholem Aleichem, and the fur hat that Ivan had given him before he disappeared. It was too big for him the last time he had tried it on. He picked it up, looking it over.  
"Wonder if it fits now." Jacob placed it on his head, examining himself in the mirror.  
"Da, I'm the most handsome man in all of Russia!" He proclaimed, grinning at himself. "Not even Ivan can compare to my rugged good looks!"  
"Your rugged goods looks need to be washed." The teen whirled around at the voice, smiling sheepishly at the older man, who cracked a small smile.  
"Ah, Ivan! I was just talking about you..." He removed the hat, placing it gingerly on the bed.  
"Why don't you wash up so we can eat?" He asked, rolling his eyes. Jacob nodded, ducking into the bathroom.

When he came back out, her sighed with relief t see that the older man was nowhere to be seen. Looking both ways down the hallway, he once again positoned himself in front of the mirror, fur hat on his head.

"I'm so handsome~"

Ivan rested his head on his palm, observing the boy across from him. It was strange seeing the child who had been taken as a young country. It was even stranger to see how different he appeared. The pale skin had darkened, and the silver hair that the two had hared was now a dark brown. He didn't possess the purple eyes that Ivan had either. It irked him somehow, knowing that he had lost yet another person that was so close to him. The teen was watching the older man as well, spinning his empty plate. Finally reaching the end of his appreciation for silence, he cleared his throat.  
"Ivan...where is everyone else?" He asked, looking at him curiously. The Russian sighed, gesturing towards the door.  
"Gone. My family has left me." Ivan replied quietly. "Toris, Feliks, Natalia, Yekaterina, and the others. The Soviet Union is only me now."  
Jacob frowned. "Gone? Even Natalia?" He murmured, glancing at the large family portrait behind Ivan. All of the members of the USSR were there, dressed up formally for the picture. Jacob had taken the photo, the first time Ivan had let him handle his expensive camera. It had been a long time ago.  
"Yes. Everyone is gone now." Ivan got up, walking towards the back door. The teen got up and followed him out, stopping at garden. Jacob bent down beside Ivan, examining the sunflowers.  
"You know, I bet they think of you often." The teen poked Ivan in the side, grinning. "You're their big brother!"  
Ivan cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't I your big brother too?"  
"Yeah..." Jacob huffed quietly. "Of course. Though I'm mad at you. About that."  
"You're still mad about it? Rude." The Russian playfully shoved the teen over. "You had your chance to be beat me and you lost."  
"I want a rematch then!" Jacob jumped up, jabbing a finger in Ivan's face. "I'm not a kid anymore, I can take it."  
Ivan smiled, pushing the hand out of his face. "Fine. Get your uniform on, and we'll settle this like men. In a battle of honor."

**(A/N) I'm going to suffer for what I'm about to do. By the way, Sholem Aleichem was the author or Fiddler on the Roof, one of my favorite movies! I swear, everybody I know can quote that movie; we sometimes randomly burst out into singing. After all, it is...TRADITION!**


End file.
